The Carcajou

Chapter Sixteen: Fall of the Carcajou

As Sam called Mindy, she approached the case containing her father's old costume.

    "You know you're not safe here," Sam heard her father say. Looking in the glass, she saw his faint reflection like before.

    "Whenever someone says, 'We're safe here,' it means you're not," Billy continued.

    "Not now," Sam whispered to the ghost.

    "But you're smarter than this, Sam," Billy argued. "Grab a weapon and clear this place yourself. You know I'm right."

    Sam's eyes then fell on the knife inside the case. Her body seemed to move independently as she reached for the handle and opened the case. She then grabbed the old weapon. It felt right in her hand.

    "Excellent choice," Billy said. "My favorite."

    His ghost then disappeared as Sam turned towards the museum of "Stab." She swore she heard something.

    "Kirby?" she called as she came down from the stage. "Kirby!"

    Sam had that feeling again. The feeling that someone was watching her but she had no idea who. The same feeling she had in the hospital a year prior, when Richie attacked her as Ghostface before Luke saved her. Slowly, Sam walked through the exhibits to try and find the FBI agent, keeping a tight grip on the knife in her hand.

    Sam jumped when her phone rang. Pulling it out, she answered.

    "Hello?"

    "Get everyone out of there, Sam. You're not safe," Bailey said on the other line. He sounded like he was in a hurry.

    "I heard from the Atlanta field office," Bailey continued. "They said Agent Reed's been on a downward spiral ever since the Woodsboro murders last year."

    "What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

    "They fired Kirby two months ago for being mentally unstable," Bailey explained. "She's no longer with the FBI."

    Sam's eyes went wide. Hanging up the call, she ran for the door to try and open it, but it wouldn't budge. As she tried, the lights went out. Sam turned from the door and raised the bloody knife in defense. Across from her, a large screen lowered and began to play "Stab."

    "Oh, crap," Sam muttered. She, Tara, and Luke had entered a trap.

———

"When was the last time anybody used this place?" Tara asked as she and Luke stood in front of the ancient snack counter.

    "I know," Luke agreed. "It's so old."

    Tara lightly smiled as she reached for a fossilized box of Milk Duds, but Luke went for it too, causing their fingertips to brush against each other.

    "Um, sorry," Luke apologized. "You can have 'em."

    "Take them," Tara said with a smile as she handed the box to Luke.

    "No, I mean..." Luke said, handing the box back to her. "If you want 'em, you have 'em."

    "You think I want these?" Tara asked.

    "Kinda," Luke answered.

    "They're a hundred years old," Tara said, setting the dust-covered snack down on the counter. "Maybe that's your thing."

    A comfortable silence overtook them as Tara looked down at her sneakers shyly. Luke glanced up at the "Stab" poster behind her. In the faint reflection, he saw Dani standing behind him, shaking her head. She said no words, but Luke somehow knew what she wanted to say.